Smooth
by the one who hums
Summary: Because the movies is the perfect place to put the moves on your meister. (SoulxMaka drabble and one-shot dump. Current Drabble: Next-door neighbor AU in which Blair is a terrible house pet, Maka commits her first B&E, and Soul is predictably naked.)
1. Smooth

Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater or any of its characters.

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><p><em>Smooth<em>

Everyone in the movie theater holds their breath as they watch the soon-to-be victim hide in a closet on the second floor of her suburban home, trying to hide from the axe murderer chasing her. The girl puts a hand over her mouth to muffle her breathing, but it's not going to do much good. The idiot tripped over three things running into the room and made a shit-ton of noise. Soul's sure that the killer knows exactly where she is.

Now the moron is now trapped inside of a bedroom, waiting. Waiting for_what_, Soul doesn't really know. Does this chick honestly think that the killer is just going to give up looking for her and leave? The closet is going to be the first place he looks! It takes everything in Soul to not groan at the predictability. The camera pans outside of the closet, so the audience's gaze is trained on the bedroom door. The only sound is the woman's muffled panting as everyone waits in anticipation for the murderer to show up and kill her.

The entire movie is completely ridiculous, and Soul's about to lean towards his meister to tell her so when all of a sudden the murderer bursts through the door with his axe. Most people jump, which is to be expected when watching a horror movie in theaters. What surprises him, however, is the sudden squeal that Maka makes as she throws her hands up to cover her eyes. Soul stares at her in amazement.

He watches her as she peers through her fingers and grimaces as the man approaches the girl holed up in her closet. The killer throws the doors open without preamble, and the idiot screams and shields her face with her arms as the murderer raises his axe. He brings the blade down with as much force as he can, and Maka flinches as the girl's shrieks come to a sudden stop and a whole bucketful of fake blood splashes on an adjacent wall.

"Why did we come see this again?" Maka mutters to him quietly, trying not to disturb other people watching the movie. "This is terrifying!"

Soul is still perturbed at his meister's reactions.. "No it's not. Maka, we fight goons like this _for a living_. This guy isn't even scary compared to the kishin eggs we fight every day. What's your deal?"

"It's different when you're watching a movie, Soul," she hisses back. "I feel completely defenseless right now. When we're fighting kishins I have a scythe in my hands!"

He almost can't believe how perfectly she set this up. This is what he wanted, right? I mean, you don't go to a scary movie with the girl you like unless you want to make a move on her. He never thought it would actually work, though. Maka is a scythe meister who fights monsters on a weekly basis. He was sure he'd flubbed up when he realized the only horror movie out was a B movie about a guy who doesn't even know how to properly wield an axe. But Maka has given him his opening, and he's going to take it.

It's a good thing it's dark in theater, because what Soul does next makes his face turn bright red. Before he can lose his nerve, he reaches over and threads his fingers with Maka's, and praying to Death that his voice doesn't crack, and whispers, "There. Now you have a scythe in your hand."


	2. Blue-Striped Pillow

**A/N:** This was a headcanon from the lovely Laura, who is ilarual on Tumblr.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Soul Eater (*crosses fingers that it could still happen one day*)

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><p><em>Blue-Striped Pillow<em>

It's become something of a routine for them now.

As Maka stands in the doorway of the bathroom running her fingers through her hair after taking out her pigtails, she can see her partner trudge groggily through the hallway. It's only ten thirty, but today was a long and tiring mission, and both of them are exhausted. She pauses her ministrations when she catches a glimpse of the blue stripes of Soul's pillowcase in the reflection of the mirror.

So it's going to be one of those kinds of nights.

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><p>It had started a long time ago.<p>

They had gone on a mission that wasn't supposed to be particularly challenging. One recently turned kishin egg was terrorizing a school in a small town in Montana. The kid couldn't have been older than fifteen. It would have been an easy in-and-out kind of assignment if the kid didn't have a gun. While Maka and Soul were able to defeat him before he was able to hurt anyone in his school, Maka had just barely escaped with her life. The boy was a good shot and Maka almost wasn't fast enough.

It wasn't like they hadn't had close calls before. But something about that mission had shaken both of them up more than usual. That night Maka had woken in up drenched in a cold sweat and clutching at her abdomen, right at the spot where a bullet had torn through her body in her nightmare. Before Maka even had a chance to sit up, Soul was racing into her room, arm already transformed into a blade and ready to defend her.

"What is it? What happened? I had a dream that you got hurt and then I woke up and your wavelength was a mess and—"

"It's okay, it was just a nightmare," she said shakily. "I'm fine; you can go back to bed."

Her room lit up for a moment as Soul's blade transformed back into flesh and bone. He stepped into her room to get a better look at her. "You're sure?"

She closed her eyes and pressed her face into the palms of your hands. "Yeah," she muttered into her hands. "I'm okay. Guess I was just still shaken up from today."

Instead of leaving, Soul came over and sat down at the foot of her bed, pulling his knees up to rest his chin on them. Wrapping one hand loosely around his pajama-clad legs while the other picked at Maka's comforter, the boy muttered, "Me too."

Maka sat up a little straighter and let her hands drop to her sides. She wasn't the only still frightened from today? Playing back Soul's words from earlier, Soul had said he had a dream about her getting hurt. Did that mean he got nightmares from missions like that too? She considered asking him, but Soul was already interrupting her thoughts.

"Close calls like that aren't cool," he murmured, tired eyes never leaving her comforter. "Makes it hard to sleep sometimes. I can't stop thinking about what could've happened if—" his hand curled into a fist around the blanket, "—if things happened differently."

Soul's words affect Maka more than he knows. Despite the fact that _he_ was the one who came into comfort _her_, Maka had the undeniable urge to ease her weapon's mind. She wanted to sleep soundly just as much as she wanted her partner to.

Soul looked up when Maka's hand covered his. "I know what you mean. It's scary to think about all the what-ifs." Her eyes softened a little. "But as long as we keep protecting each other, none of those possibilities have to become reality, right?"

Soul's lips upturned into a small smile. "Right."

A small length of silence past between them. "Hey Soul?"

"Mm?"

Maka's hand pulled back to rub the back of her neck nervously. She looked away from her partner to hide how heated her face was becoming. "Would you want to sleep in here tonight?"

Her averted gaze didn't see the way Soul's eyes widened at her question, or the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he visibly gulped. But despite Soul's reservations, something about the idea of sleeping in the same bed as his meister was as enticing as it was terrifying. And it was a much better option than sleeping alone.

"Sure."

Maka was almost too surprised by Soul's answer to see him crawling towards her end of the bed. Belatedly, she scooted over towards the wall to make room for her partner.

As he settled under the covers to lay stiffly beside her, Maka surprised him by rolling over to glare at him. "But know this, Soul Eater: if you try to steal my covers from me in the middle of the night, I swear to Death you will find yourself on the floor with a book indented in your skull."

The tension left his body at her words, which sounded so normal and typically Maka that he wondered why he was nervous at all.

He rolled over with a snort. "As long as you promise not to kick me."

Within minutes, the tired partners were both fast asleep, and thankfully neither of them had any more nightmares for the remainder of the night. After that night, it becomes somewhat of a routine for the two of them: after particularly difficult missions, Soul would grab his pillow and head over to Maka's room without a word. The warmth of each other's presence staved off more nightmares than either could count, and on the occasion that either woke in a panic, the other was always there as reassurance and comfort.

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><p>Maka finishes up her bathroom routine quietly, combing her hair and brushing her teeth. Once she's done, she pads down the hallway and pushes her door open slowly. Soul's light snores can already be heard from her bed. Maka sighs. It's impossible to wake him up after he's asleep.<p>

Maka walks over to her bed and looks at her partner in a huff. His drool is already covering the blue-striped pillow he brought with him into her bed.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you?" she whispers to his sleeping frame.

Putting her hand on his shoulder for balance, Maka gingerly climbs over her partner's sleeping body to reclaim her side of the bed closest to the wall. Soul doesn't stir the entire time it takes her to step over his body and slide underneath the sheets, but as she begins to close her eyes she feels a deliberate tug on her blankets.

She responds with a good-natured kick.


	3. Stuck in the Moment

**A/N:** Time travel prompt!

Disclaimer: Ohkubo still hasn't offered me the rights to Soul Eater. What's up with that?

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><p><em>Stuck in the Moment<em>

The worst part about time travel was not letting anyone see you. As the meister-weapon pair hid behind a dumpster in Death City, Maka continued to pout pathetically at their lack of action.

"I want to DO something!" She muttered irritably. They were ten years in the future! She was sure that so much had changed about their lives! She wanted to see Death City, see the academy, see herself, but she couldn't do any of that without being spotted. Back in present time, Soul and Maka were a very well-renowned weapon-meister pair. Assuming that they still lived in Death City in the future, a civilian was bound to notice them if their younger selves began gallivanting around the city.

"You know we can't," Soul grumbled, just as irritated. This was not as fun as he had always imagined it would be. What's the point of time travelling if you have to spend the entire day hiding behind a stinky dumpster for fear of being recognized?

"We don't even know what _day_ it is," she said with a huff, blowing her bangs out of her face.

"And why does that matter?"

"Think about it! If we know the exact date that we were travelling to, then in ten years future-me and future-you could walk right by this very alleyway to at least show us what we look like! We're going to remember this day ten years from now, Soul, and we're going to remember what a waste it was. I know for a fact that future-me would throw me a bone."

"Okay," Soul said slowly, struggling to follow her train of thought (talking about the past, present, and future like this was really confusing). "So you're saying we need to figure out exactly what date we travelled to?" His meister nodded. "And how do you plan on doing that from behind a dumpster. It's not like there's a calendar back here."

Maka sat there for a moment in thought, eyebrows screwed together in thought. "Oh! The newspaper!"

"But we've already gone over that we can't leave this alley until nightfall. How are we gonna buy one?"

Maka smiled at Soul. "We don't have to." The without further notice, Maka stood up, gripped her hands on the side of the dumpster, and pulled herself in.

"Maka! What the hell are you doing?" Soul stood to look inside the trash bin. Maka could be seen rooting around through the garbage. "Please tell me there is a point to this," he muttered dryly.

"A-ha!" And with a victorious grin, his partner was holding up a slightly ripped newspaper. It was still near the top of the bin, with barely any food on it, so it was presumably from that day. "Thank goodness this city still sucks when it comes to recycling." The date was written at the top clear as day, and just as Maka was about to tell Soul what it was, they heard a noise from the street that made Soul immediately duck behind the trash receptacle to avoid being seen.

It was a couple. They were walking down the street holding hands and laughing, but their voices were too far away for Maka to hear their conversation. Maka peeked her head out of the dumpster to get a better look at the couple, who currently had their backs to her. On the man she saw a messy mop of fair hair, tinged in yellow from the sunlight. He was much taller than the woman, who walked beside him, smiling and laughing at whatever it was he was saying.

Maka was about to duck back down when the woman did something peculiar. Right before the couple had passed by the alleyway and continued on their walk, the woman grabbed her boyfriend by the hand and pulled him back towards the alley. Then, right in the middle of the man asking what she was doing, his girlfriend kissed him full on the mouth. He stiffened for a moment, presumably in surprise, but quickly relaxed into the kiss.

Maka internally groaned; it was just some couple ducking into an alleyway to french. Nothing special or futuristic about that. As Maka slowly began to lean down back into hiding, her grip on the side of the dumpster slipped. Her elbow banged loudly on the metal wall to her left, and Maka froze in fear as the woman looked up at to find the source of the noise.

Time seemed to come to a complete stop as a pair of large green eyes met Maka's. A grin split across the woman's face, and she gave the wide-eyed teen a wink before pulling her disgruntled boyfriend away from the alley and back into the street, continuing on their walk.

Maka sat back in the bin, mind spinning at what she had just seen.

"Are those people gone?" Soul asked quietly, still safely tucked behind the dumpster. "Did they see you?"

Slowly, Maka pulled herself out of the dumpster and back onto the ground. Soul grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to sit down next to him against the alley wall, the other hand distractedly wiping some of the grime off of her clothes. Maka couldn't help but notice as her partner helped to clean her jacket off, the way the rays of the setting sun caused strands of Soul's white hair to look almost yellow.

"Yeah," she muttered distractedly, looking back towards the entryway of the alley at where the couple had stood, hoping Soul couldn't see the blush on her cheeks. "Yeah, they're gone."

It turns out future-Maka had thrown her a bone after all.


	4. You Promised

Disclaimer: I own Soul Eater. All of it. Every bit is mine.

Disclaimer part II: The first disclaimer was a lie. Sadly.

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><p><em>You Promised<em>

The hallway leading up to Maka and Soul's apartment is silent as the meister-weapon pair walk back to their place. Well, it would be silent if it Maka's boots weren't obnoxiously squishing every time she took a step. Soul pretends he doesn't mind, walking quietly down the hallway, hand-in-hand with his meister, but Maka can't help but grimace at the noise.

"Uggggh. I feel disgusting. Why did that mission have to take place in a swamp again?" She considers taking off her boot and emptying the water out of it, but refrains.

Soul slides his key in the lock to their apartment and jiggles it a bit. The stupid thing is always getting stuck. "Because we were in Florida, and Florida is covered in swamps. At least the fight didn't last long. You finished him off pretty easily."

Maka grins proudly despite herself. "Yeah, I was pretty great out there." Her smile falters when she inhales through her nose. "But I smell like the inside of a port-a-potty. Will you hurry up with the key? I want to take a shower."

Soul stops moving his hand and looks slowly at his meister. "You do remember that you promised that I'd get it first this time, right?"

"What? Why would I do that? You're the weapon. You don't stink!"

Soul scowls. "No, but I was forced to stay in my weapon form for over _two hours_ while you wandered around the swamp trying to find our target. Do you know how much it starts to hurt being steel for that long? I'm aching all over. And you _said _I could shower first this time."

"I'm covered in swamp sludge and blood!" She shouts, gesturing at her ruined clothes. "I'm not going to let you use up all the hot water just because you're _a little sore_," she says, mocking him.

"You washed off a bit before the flight. You're not actually that dirty, you're just being dramatic." The lock clicks and Soul can feel the door open slightly, but he purposefully ignores this fact and looks at his meister. "Listen, if you let me take a shower first then I'll be nice and cook you lasagna." He bends down a bit so he can look directly in Maka's eyes. He sweeps her bangs out of her face and conjures up his most charming smile. "And you know how much you like my lasagna."

Maka pouts for a second, thinking it over. Soul's cooking _is_ delicious. And the look on his face right now…she could just give in to him this one time, right?

But then it occurs to her that Soul is not only using his cooking as a bargaining tool, but he's also trying to gain the upper hand by flirting with her! She refuses to be persuaded. After a moment's hesitation, her eyes go hard as she squares her shoulders. "No. I need the shower more than you, so I'm going first."

Soul shrugs. "Suit yourself."

Not a second later, Soul's throwing the door open and darting inside, using his longer legs to vault over the couch and make a beeline for the bathroom. If she wants to be stubborn about this, so be it. He just needs to make it to the shower before Maka does.

Maka's reaction time is a lot faster than he expected, though. She's right behind him, jumping on the couch and using its bounce to spring her towards her partner. She lands on his back, and wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders to keep from falling.

Maka tightens her grip around her weapon's body as he tries to shake her off. When Soul eventually stops struggling, she leans down to speak into her weapon's ear. "That was tricky, Eater," she says almost coyly. But her voice turns hard. "I'd admire your determination if you were playing this game with anyone but me. Now stop with the games and let me use the shower."

Soul attempts to claw her arms away from his neck, but she's created a vice grip on him, just tight enough to make him uncomfortable, but not enough to hurt him. He's impressed by her strength, but not by her stubbornness. "Never. Not when you made a promise to me that I would get it first."

She surprises him next by switching her grip so she has her right hand securely clamping onto his shoulder while she shoves her left armpit into his face.

"Does it smell like I care about that promise?" she snarls at him. "Give up and I won't smother you to death."

"You smell like beautiful," he mutters sardonically as he begins to breathe through his mouth. An idea strikes him, and he uses a free hand to slowly trace a path from Maka's elbow down to her underarm. The effect of his actions is just as he intended, and Maka screeches out a laugh involuntarily and loosens her grip on shoulder. Soul takes advantage of Maka's hatred for tickling and uses her dropped guard as a chance to flip her off of his back and onto the couch.

Not bothering to check on her, Soul makes a beeline for the bathroom door down the hall. He can hear her yelling for him, but he hopes that dropping her on her head might have slowed her down enough for him to make it to their shower first. He can hear her shouting expletives in the living room and is sure that he's going to make it there first, but right as his hand touches the cool metal of the bathroom doorknob, Maka pulls him away and has him pinned against the door.

"Tickling is cheating and you know it," she spits.

"How the hell did you get here so fast?" he asks while he pants. She was all the way in the living room still!

"I didn't make it to two-star rank without having good recovery time, Soul," she says matter-of-factly. She sizes him up for a moment. "Now what is it going to take to get you to give me the shower first?"

Soul doesn't say anything, because he's not going to give it up. Maka's showers always take far too long, and if he's going to get any hot water for_ his_ shower, he needs to hold his ground. Her arms have made a cage around his body, but he finds that he can still touch the doorknob if he moves his hand very slowly.

"Can you be persuaded?" Maka asks, and Soul stops thinking about the doorknob and looks down at her, because her voice has taken on a new cadence. As she looks up at him from under her bangs, her blunt nails running down his arms slowly, Maka sounds _seductive_.

"I know a way that we both could be happy," she says with a slow smile, standing on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. Her whole body is pressed up against his now, and to reach his ear she slides up against him in such a welcome way that Soul's resilience begins to waver.

"We could shower _together_," Maka suggests, breath hot in Soul's ear.

He looks at her for a long moment, at the way she bites her lip and bats her lashes at him, and thinks of the shower in the room behind them, big enough for two.

"Nope!"

And before Maka can blink again, the door opens and Soul ducks inside, slamming it inches from her nose.

"Are you serious?" she yells through the door. "You're willing to have sex any other time of the day, but you control your libido _now?_"

"You promised me the shower!" he says cheerfully through the door. She hears the water begin to run and thumps her head against the door. Her weapon is an immature brat, and he _definitely_ owes her lasagna now.


	5. Little Talks

**A/N: **Prompt time! This one is _Things You Said at One A.M. _Coincidentally written at one a.m. Which would explain the weirdness.

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><p><em>Little Talks<em>

"I can't sleep," Maka whispers into the darkness of their shared room.

"No shit," Soul mutters irritably. It's fuck o' clock but their bodies are telling them it's three in the afternoon. Jet lag sucks ass and Maka's tossing and turning isn't helping.

"Did you bring your iPod with you? We could listen to music or something."

"Dead. Left my charger on my dresser in the rush to make our flight."

She sighs unhappily in the bed next to his. Neither of them packed anything to entertain themselves in the night, and the motel that they're staying at only has cable in another language. Soul just wants to sleep, but he's stuck staring at the ceiling of the cheap room they're in and wondering if counting sheep is a viable way to get drowsy.

Maka continues to squirm and Soul's about ready to snap at her to _pick a position _when she speaks up.

"You ever wonder what marriage is gonna be like?"

"_What?_"

"I was just thinking. We're kinda married right? I mean, we live together and know a ton about each other and basically spend all our time together. Do you think real marriage will be like that?"

This is new, even for her. Soul is aware that his meister tends to get weirdly existential at night, but in their minds it's daytime, so he's wondering what spurred this on.

I mean, it's not that he's never contemplated this before. He and Maka have been partners for four years. They know each other inside and out and even their souls are connected, for God's sake. They are pretty married.

Well, almost.

"Marriage probably involves a lot more sex."

Did he really just say that _out loud_? What the fuck? Maybe his not-tiredness is starting to get to him too. Because there is no way that Soul would ever consciously admit to wanting to have sex with Maka _to her face_. Even if indirectly.

She only snorts, and he can't tell if that's an insult or not.

"Yeah, you're right about that."

He doesn't know how to respond to that, so he assumes the conversation is over. Maka is weird and he needs to stop talking before he ends up admitting something he doesn't want to.

"It's gonna be weird. Being married to other people one day."

Why is she still talking? How the fuck is he supposed to respond to this stuff? He can't tell if this is supposed to be idle chatter or if she's baiting him. Half of him wants her to be baiting him, trying to get him to admit how head over heals he is for her and that he doesn't ever want her to marry anyone else. He's the only one who ever wants to share these one a.m. conversations with her, even if their stupid and awkward and make him want to bury his face in his musty pillow and scream. It's a better alternative to her actually considering marrying another guy someday.

"Since when did you become so open to the idea of marriage? I thought your mom and dad botched the whole institution of it for you."

Shit, did he just cross a line? He knows they're close enough to discuss her parents' failed relationship, they have before, but the way he said it felt insensitive.

She doesn't seem to mind, though.

"Well, yeah, when I was twelve. My parents were the only role models I had. I figured if they couldn't make it work, what chance did I have?" Soul steals a glance from the corner of his eye to try and see her expression, but she's laying down on her back as well, staring at the ceiling with her hands folded on her torso. "But things changed after meeting you. I've been partnered with you for four years now, so I think I've learned enough about trust on my own to know that it's real."

Soul's hands clam up when she mentions him. This would be a great opportunity to tell her how he feels, if he were brave enough. That she taught him things too: confidence, self-worth, how to believe in others, how to care about something other than yourself and your own disgusting self-pity. Maybe even how to love. He would tell her all these things, but the cool guy in him is an idiot that keeps him quiet.

"And that means you wanna get married?"

"Someday, I think," she answers with a yawn. "If the right person comes along."

Soul bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to sting. Her breathing is starting to even out and now she's going to fall asleep before he even figures out why she started this conversation to begin with. He wants to ask her, wants to spill his guts to her, wants to say _something._ It's one a.m. and they're thousands of miles from home talking about marriage, and Soul's insides feel like a yo-yo when he quietly says "Maybe you've already met him."

Maka doesn't respond, shockingly enough. Maybe she's asleep already, or maybe she's awake but pretending to be asleep to avoid responding. It's the bravest thing he's ever said without her there to aid him, so it only makes sense that it would be falling on deaf ears. He rolls away from her and mashes his face into his pillow. He can't scream without waking her up or alerting her of what an even bigger moron he is. So he breathes the pillow into his face, completely content with smothering himself into embarrassed unconsciousness when he hears her whisper back.

"Maybe I have."


	6. Butt Dial

****A/N:**** Second prompt of the night. __Things You Said Over the Phone___._

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><p><em><em>Butt Dial<em>_

Soul always seemed pretty good with technology, up until he got his new phone.

He didn't want to get a new phone, in fact he loudly complained that his old phone was _fine_, but Maka insisted that after dropping his phone in the toilet for the third time, he needed a new one. If not for the internal damage that had been done to it, for sanitary reasons. I mean, really. Three times in the toilet. How did that even happen?

So Maka had graciously taken it upon herself to get him a new one. It wasn't that expensive, and he had bought her a nice birthday gift the month before, so she didn't feel weird about buying him something a little pricey. She picked a nice one too, not like the cheap one he had before which was missing buttons and the charger only worked if you plugged it in a certain way and was probably covered in microscopic fecal matter. She thought she was doing him a favor, being generous, but she was wrong.

Soul hated it. Yes, he was grateful for the new phone, and of course used it as often as he could to prove how much he appreciated it. But she could tell by his constantly grumbling that he despised the damn thing.

"I only need it for calls and texts! And maybe to download some music, but that's it! What are all these apps for? How the hell do I use Blue Tooth? Does this thing have Siri? Or is the green robot kind? Where are my contacts?"

Her partner was a mess. It was funny at first, watching him struggle, but after a while it just got kind of sad. He clearly had no idea what he was doing, but continued to use the phone instead of buying the new one because it was a gift.

Eventually he figured it out. Sort of. He managed to download 11 songs on it without hurting himself, and by some sort of miracle managed to transfer all of his contacts from his old shit phone to his new one.

His new problem was having no idea how to lock his phone. He was so used to his old, out-dated one that he could just slide shut that he often forgot to press the power button on his new touch-screen phone.

And that meant butt dialing.

Soul had the bad habit of sliding his phone into his back pocket without locking his screen, which meant for a lot of phone calls to Maka.

"Why am in here as Albarn?" Maka had asked when Soul had asked her how to attach a picture to a text message one day.

"Then you're always at the top of my contacts. You're the person I call the most, so it seems easier that way."

It made sense at the time, but now it was an unfortunate inconvenience. Being at the top of his contacts meant getting a lot of calls from Soul. While she was at home, in class, while he was out with Black Star and Kid, any time of the day. And considering it was Soul, Maka always answered, despite knowing that the majority of the time it was just background voices and muffled butt sounds.

Sometimes she would hear snippets of conversations.

"—It's three twenty. It's __three twenty__, Black Star, it's my fucking turn! What do you think i was just doing? I just checked the time, you assshole!"

"—Psychedelic Suds was one of the fucking best garage bands from the 70s. Don't lie to me, you fucking know I'm right."

"—Shit, fuck. I think I just pressed send? Maybe I didn't? What does the green phone in the corner mean? Does that mean it sent?"

Normally when Maka received calls such as these, she hung up. After all, Soul hadn't intended to call her, so there was no reason to stay on the line.

Unless he mentioned her name.

It really was a breach in privacy, Maka couldn't deny that. And as much as she wanted to hang up, part of her was curious what Soul said about her when she wasn't around. So against her better judgement, Maka sometimes stayed on the line to hear what he had to say.

Normally it was idle chit chat. Telling someone yeah, that was her on the news who sliced up that Kishin. No, she hadn't taken that class so she probably wouldn't be much help. She said she was making pasta for dinner. Or did she say pot roast? He couldn't remember.

Sometimes things were slightly juicier.

"—I think Maka knows I cheated off of her for Stein's test the other day. She's been giving me death glares all day and she still hasn't spoken to me."

"—If Maka would just put her damn bras in the hamper like I __asked___,_ I wouldn't have to feel like a__pervert __picking them off her bedroom floor. But __nooooo__-one listens to Soul, do they?"

"—How do you tell your meister she should wear her hair down more often? Maka curled it the other day and it looked really good. But cool guys don't talk about their meister's hair. Right? Shut the fuck up, Kilik. Your partners are toddlers."

Maka would stay on the line much longer than necessary to hear conversations like those. It filled her up with a weird sense of glee, knowing that Soul talked about her when she wasn't with him. She couldn't really identify the feeling, but it somehow made her seem more a part of his life, knowing that she was in his thoughts even when she wasn't with him.

She probably would have kept listening to his butt-conversations about her too. But things changed around the time of the DWMA Annual Halloween Ball. Normally they skipped every year, since Maka wasn't keen on dancing and Soul wasn't much of a party guy. Both of them regularly turned down dates to the dance and opted for staying home to watch horror movies in their living room, and Maka assumed that this year would be no different.

Maka was hanging up posters for the event in the halls of the DWMA with Tsubaki when she got a call from Soul.

"Aren't you going to answer that?"

Maka groaned, fishing her phone out of her skirt pocket.

"This is probably another butt-dial. The fourth one today, in fact. I really should have bought him a flip phone. The boy is useless when it comes to touch screens."

She swiped her screen and pressed the phone to her ear, rolling her eyes at Tsubaki when she heard the _swish swish_ noise of Soul's pants against the receiver. "Butt-dial," she mouthed to Tsubaki with a small smile, but straightened when she heard Soul mention her name.

"—I'm thinking about going to the dance this year, actually. Maka would probably be against it because of our Halloween tradition, but I feel like it's finally time to go to one of these things, you know? Maybe it will be better than the last school ball I went to. No Kishin revivals, just dancing and drinking spiked punch and maybe making out with a girl in a broom closet."

Tsubaki looked over at Maka. "What is it?"

Maka pressed the phone to her shoulder and spoke to Tsubaki.

"Soul's planning on going to the ball this year, I guess? And something about spiked punch and broom closets?"

"You really shouldn't be listening to his conversations, Maka."

Maka waved her hand at her friend and returned the phone to her ear. "It's fine, he's not saying anything he won't tell me at home later."

"—What makes you think Anya would say yes, though? Wouldn't age be an issue. She's what, like three years younger than us?"

"__Anya___?_" Maka couldn't help but blurt the girl's name in stunned disbelief. Soul was choosing to go to the dance with—with __her__?

"Maka, put the phone down, Soul's going to hear you!"

"Why the hell would he ask Anya, of all people, to the dance? What makes her so much better?"

"Maka. Phone. Down." Tsubaki grabbed Maka's cell phone from her grip and pressed the 'end' button.

Maka wanted to be mad, but she was too busy fuming at the thought of Soul. Her partner. Making out with Anya Hepbern. In a broom closet. At the Halloween Ball. The words did not compute in her brain.

"I have to go talk to him."

Tsubaki put a hand on her shoulder. "Maka, it's not your place! You weren't supposed to be listening!"

"You don't get it Tsubaki! I've turned dates every single year on Halloween in the hope that that stupid boy would ask me! Every. Freaking. Year! And I know that he doesn't like parties, so I never questioned it when he never asked me and I never asked him! And now he's finally going to go, and he chooses Anya freaking Hepbern!"

She stormed off, not knowing where she was going or what she was going to do. Soul didn't say where he was when she was eavesdropping, so she didn't have much to go off of. She was forced to just trudge home to her apartment to wait for him.

When he finally did arrive, Maka was waiting for him, looking very much like a mother who purposefully stayed up to catch her child come in past curfew.

He shut the door behind him with his foot and offered her an uncomfortable smile. "Hey?"

She continued to scowl at him, which probably made her look crazy, given that he had no idea what she was angry for.

"Ummm. Did I do something wrong? I swear I haven't cheated off of you in like, a month, so if this is about that test from before—"

"So you're asking Anya Hepbern to the dance?"

He straightened. "What?"

Maka stood from her spot on the couch.

"I heard through the grapevine that you're going to the Halloween Ball this year. It seems like a weird time to finally decide to go, after all these years of avoiding it, but whatever. Horror movie traditions need to be broken eventually, right?"

Noting the bitterness in her voice, Soul looked at her curiously.

"You're mad that I'm going to the dance this year? I thought you always wanted to go."

She crossed her arms. "Maybe. But I would appreciate next time if you would tell me next time you planned on ditching me."

His brow furrowed. "Ditching you? What are you—"

"Anya's pretty. I personally think she's a little young for you, but that's just my opinion. I'm sure she'll say yes. No one in their right mind would turn down a Death Scythe."

Soul put his hands in the air. "Alright, Maka stop! I have no idea what you're talking about! Who said I was going with Anya?"

"You did!" she yelled. "You said you were going to make out with her in a broom closet and drink spiked punch with her. You said you were going to ask her to the dance."

"Maka, I never—and where would you even have _heard—_I literally just left Kilik two minutes ago. There's no way people could have played telephone that fast."

She pulled out her phone. "You called me, Soul. I heard you say it."

His eyes widened. "I what? Shit!" He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and looked through his outgoing calls. The screen was big enough that Maka could see it from where she stood. Five calls to Albarn.

"Damn this stupid phone," he grumbled, scrolling through his phone calls. His thumb stopped on the last phone call, and he looked up at her. "Wait a minute. All these other calls are like ten seconds long, but this one lasted for over three minutes. Were you listening to my conversation?"

Maka sputtered. "Y-you mentioned my name! I thought you were talking to me, so I stayed to listen!"

"Maka Albarn, you eavesdropper," he said, but he was...smirking? "And you're not even a good one, at that."

Maka frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"_Kilik _is planning on asking Anya to the dance, idiot. I was telling him that she seemed a little young for him and he should ask someone from our year."

Maka felt a blush spread across her face at her mistake. "Kilik?"

"Yes, Kilik. Do you really think I would ask Anya out?"

"I-I don't know. You mentioned kissing girls in closets and then you said her name." Maka crossed her arms again.

Soul flushed at that, looking down. "Yeah, well, that's not who I meant. I was actually gonna—Wait. Were you __jealous __of Anya?"

Her entire body felt hot under the weight of his stare. "W-what. No! I was just—I just thought she was a little young-"

"You were totally jealous! You didn't like thinking that I was asking someone out to the dance, did you?"

Maka had had enough of his scrutiny. She turned away, prepared to flee to her bedroom and lock herself in there for the next century to avoid the shit-eating grin on her weapon's face.

"Nevermind! Forget I said anything! Have fun at the stupid dance, what do I care!"

Soul's hand was on her shoulder before she even made it three steps though, and slowly he was turning her around.

"Maka, I wanted to ask __you __to be my date."

Maka blinked. "Huh?"

He sighed. "Maka Albarn, I am asking you if you'll go to the DWMA Annual Halloween Ball with me. Will you please be my date?"

Maka's heart felt like it was going to beat right through her ribcage. "Even if it means leading me when we dance?" He nodded. "And socializing with lots of people?" Another nod. "...And making out in broom closets?"

The redness was returning to his face, but this time he didn't back down.

"We could start now?"

And before he could say another word, Maka was pulling him down by the collar for a kiss. It was rushed and quick and definitely not enough for either of them, who had been waiting for this moment for _years_. Maka pushed herself up against him, and Soul groaned into her mouth and back up into the wall behind him. With more leverage, Maka stood on her tiptoes, bringing their heads closer together and alleviating his slouch, running her fingers through his hair as she kissed him. Soul's tongue darted inside her mouth, and sensation had Maka's toes curling in her socks.

They could have gone on like that for ages, but eventually they had to breathe, pulling apart and looking at each other like they were new people.

"I take it that's a yes?" Soul asked through bated breath, though she hadn't seen him smile that wide in a long time.

Maka nodded happily, and stood on her tiptoes once more to give him a peck on the lips for good measure. The second time Soul's back hit the wall, Maka heard her phone ring from inside her pocket. She groaned and lowered herself, pulling it out of her skirt pocket to show her partner the number calling her.

Soul sighed and took his phone from his pocket, ending the call and tossing the phone onto the couch. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she couldn't deny how right it felt, after all this time waiting. She expected him to bend down to give her another kiss, but instead he looked warily at the couch before finally asking:

"Can I __please __get a different phone now?"


	7. Not Ready

**A/N:** Yet another prompt! I was apparently very popular last night. _Things You Said That I Wasn't Meant to Hear._

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><p><em>Not Ready<em>

Everyone was in hysterics, for different reasons.

Tsubaki was crying. Tears were streaming down her face so quickly Maka almost couldn't tell that she was smiling through them. Jackie and Kim were cheering and yelling "Congratulations!" Patti was climbing on the couch and shouting in victory, screaming "Black Star owes me fifty bucks because I FREAKING CALLED IT" while Liz was trying to get her sister to sit down.

Maka looked like she was going to be sick.

"I don't think you guys get it," Maka says to the group of females all gathered around her in one of then many rooms of the Gallows Mansion. "This isn't a good thing, this is a disastrously bad thing."

Tsubaki wipes the tears and snot from her face long enough to look at her best friend tenderly. "Maka, what are you talking about? This is amazing news! You're going to have a _baby._"

Maka stands up suddenly. "And none of you see how that's a bad thing? This is Soul and me we're talking about! We're twenty! Our life together has just started! He's a Death Scythe and I just got my teaching job at Shibusen and everything was PERFECT until this happened! We were happy! But now it's going to be nothing but stress and late night feedings and day care and diapers and child care books and I-_we're_ not ready for that! We-we can't even remember to turn the iron off when we're finished using it! We're not ready for this!"

Now _she_ was getting hysterical. Liz and Kim come over to her, putting their hands on her shoulders and instructing her to sit down.

"Well, have you thought about abortion?" Liz asks gently. "I don't really know what you're stance is on it, but if you're not ready..."

Maka puts her head in her hands. "I haven't even told Soul yet, let alone think about how we're going to handle it." She takes a deep breath. "We were so _careful_. We used condoms every freaking time. Why do we have to be the two percent whose lives get screwed over?"

"I feel like you're looking at this the wrong way," Patti says, surprising everyone with how serious she sounds. "Out of all of us, you and Soul are definitely the most equipped to have a kid. You guys love each other a lot, don't you?"

Maka wipes her misty eyes. "Well, yeah, but—"

"So what makes you think you won't love your baby just as much? Maka, you're really really smart! You can read a ton of those parenting books like you're studying for a big test, and when the baby comes you'll be ready for it! And Soul's gonna be there for you like he always is, isn't he?"

"I don't think it's that easy, Patti," Maka sniffs.

The younger girl only pouts. "I don't see why it can't be."

Liz rubs her younger sister's back. "Caring for another person is tough work, Patti. You gotta make sure you're doing everything you can to make sure they're happy and safe. You know how we gotta make sure everything is nice and symmetrical for Kid so he doesn't get sad? Imagine doing stuff like that 24/7 for a little baby that can't speak to tell you what it wants."

Patti purses her lips in thought, then nods. "I guess you're right, sis. I'd be worried about messing up."

Maka looks to her friends again. "See? And how can we not mess up? Neither of us had great role models for parents. My dad was a rotten cheater and my mom abandoned me, and the Evans barely even paid attention to Soul." She looks down and shakes her head, feeling more tears well up in her eyes. "We're not ready for this. I can't have this baby. If it doesn't ruin our lives, we might ruin it's."

"Baby?"

Its like the stars have aligned that day to ruin Maka's life. First the pink little plus sign on the pregnancy test mocking her incompetency as an adult, and now Soul walking into the room, face as white has his hair and looking absolutely petrified. Maka hadn't known how she was going to break the news to Soul, but she knew that him walking in on their conversation was definitely not the way she wanted to do it.

"Soul!" she cries out, standing up. She doesn't know what to do. Her weapon looks very close to passing out and she's honestly starting to feel a little dizzy herself.

"Baby?"

It seems all Soul's capably of doing is swaying back and forth and repeating that dreaded word.

Jackie saves them both from blacking out from fright by lowering Maka back to the couch, then walking over and taking Soul by the hand. He doesn't even look like he sees her at first, but after a tug or two he's moving toward the crowd of women, led by Jackie, whose face is the picture of calm.

She leads Soul down to the couch across from Maka, taking extra care to make sure he's going to stay upright before releasing his hand. She then grabs Kim by the hand and eyes the other women in the room.

"Maybe we should leave Maka and Soul alone for little bit. Ladies?"

And like that, everyone is standing and leaving the two alone, much to Maka's chagrin. The last thing she wants is to be left alone with Soul, who looks practically catatonic.

The door clicks behind them, and a heavy silence falls upon them, thick with tension, at least on Maka's end. She isn't even sure if Soul is breathing.

"Listen, Soul—"

"Baby?" He interrupts her, but this time he doesn't look inches from death. He's asking her a question now.

Maka sighs and rubs her hands over her face. "Yeah. I'm apparently pregnant. I took like seven tests this morning to be sure." She looks up at him. "I—I didn't want you to find out this way. Hell, I was afraid to tell you at _all_, but this is definitely not how I would have done it."

"You're going to have a baby?"

He seems very stuck on that word, and Maka has half the mind to tell him to stop saying it.

She's tired of talking, so she just nods, waiting for his reaction.

"What do you want to do?" he asks quietly.

Well, that question isn't helpful at all. _Throw up, _is what she thinks, but being sarcastic doesn't seem like the best option right now, no matter how true that thought is. She shrugs, feeling bad for not contributing much to the conversation, but at the same time not knowing what to say. She hasn't studied for this. She doesn't know the answer.

"Are you scared?"

That one she can answer, though suddenly her throat starts to sting and it takes everything in her not to burst into tears at that moment. She swallows thickly and closes her eyes, nodding at him.

She still hasn't opened her eyes, but she can feel the couch dip a little bit next to her and his arm looping around her shoulders as he pulls her close to him. She can hear his heartbeat when he pulls her to his chest, fast and slightly erratic, and his hands are shaking a bit as he pets her hair, but she doesn't mind. It's still Soul and he's still there for her, doing everything right when everything about this situation is wrong.

He kisses the crown of her head. "Me too." He's silent for a moment before continuing. "But I think we could do it."

Maka opens her eyes slowly and pulls her head away from him so she can look at his face. "You do?" she asks, her voice still wet.

He smiles a little. "Maka, we've known each other for almost eight years. We've killed a witch, defeated the Kishin, made me a Death Scythe, and become one of the most well-known meister-weapon pairs in the Western Hemisphere. When I'm with you, I feel like we can do anything. So this is just one more thing we'll get through together, right?"

She clutches his arms. "But don't you see? We'd being throwing all that away! I won't be able to be your meister for months, and you'll be too busy taking care of me and the baby to go on missions! All that we've been through will have been flushed down the toilet for one heated night on the couch and I don't—"

He silences her by pressing his lips to hers. She's panicking, she wants to scream and rant that this is a terrible idea, but Soul tenderly kissing her soothes her, if only a little. He pulls back a little and touches her face.

"Having a baby won't be the end of the world, Maka. In fact, it might be the beginning of something really cool."

He uses his old catchphrase and Maka finds herself smiling despite her inner turmoil. She hates and loves that he can have that affect on her, even in a time like this.

"And it's not like we're going to have to quit our jobs. Stein and Miss Marie had a kid right after the Kishin was destroyed, and things are fine for them! He still teaches and she still goes on missions with Kid. We're still gonna be us even though we'll be parents."

Maka bites her lip. "But parents at twenty? Me breastfeeding before I'm even old enough to legally drink?"

Soul kisses her again. "You don't like alcohol that much anyway."

"_Soul._"

He grabs her hands and looks into her eyes, looking completely sincere.

"Look, I know it's not going to be easy. Having a kid is going to be messy and stressful and might drive us both a little crazy." Then he grins at her, that lopsided, shark-toothed smile that she loves so much. "But there's no one in the world that I would rather do this with than you." He squeezes her hands gently. "I want to do this. With you. And I hope you'll feel the same way."

She takes a deep breath. She's still certainly afraid. Having a baby is going to be the scariest thing she ever does, Kishin-be-damned. But Soul's right. Together they are the strongest force she knows of, and she knows there's no one else she would rather go through this with than the man sitting next to her holding her hands.

"Okay," she says finally, not letting her voice waver. "We're going to have a baby."

She leans in and kisses him again, feeling the strength they share and praying that it will be enough. It's not until they hear the female shouts of triumph from the other side of the door that they pull apart. Soon Tsubaki is running through the door, mascara running and blubbering like a baby as she envelops them both in a tight hug, and soon everyone is in hysterics again.

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><p><strong>AN:** Oh! And in case I haven't mentioned before (or it wasn't obvious), I accept prompts! So if you ever wanna PM me with a suggestion, I'll try my best to write it for you! No guarantees on how quickly I'll be able to write it, since inspiration comes and goes, but my inbox is always open if you want to make a suggestion.


	8. Payback

_Payback_

Soul smirked as scooped a thin layer of snow off of the ground and into the palm of his hand. He shaped it slowly as he watched his meister's eyes widen.

"Don't you dare, Soul. _Don't you dare._"

It was the first snow he had ever witnessed in Death City. It was pathetic compared to the heaps of snowfall they received every winter on the East Coast, but Soul didn't mind that much. As long as there was enough to make a snowball big enough for Maka's eyes to bug out, he didn't mind at all.

He tossed the slightly dirty snowball up into the air a few inches and caught it, happy that none of the snow had cracked or burst into powder upon impact with his gloved palm.

"What are you going to do about it?" he taunted.

Maka looked practically irate. She was _not_ a fan of snow, never had been.

"I will make you suffer the worst punishment imaginable if you throw that at me, Soul Eater. So don't you dare—"

Soul whipped his arm back and threw the snowball with an accuracy that surprised even him. The ball hit Maka square in the forehead, right near the crown of her hair. It was more perfect than he could have imagined. Not only could he not be killed for hurting her since it missed her eyes and nose, it burst into the perfect cloud of white powder to cover her face so he had his opening to escape.

Running away from the girl you threw a snowball at probably seemed seriously uncool when sticking around and gloating was favorable, but to be able to gloat meant he needed to live through the experience, and that meant running like hell.

What he didn't count on was Maka using her Soul Perception to find him while her eyes remained closed. He also didn't count on her being so fast, fast enough to tackle him to the ground and press his face into the snow.

"You asked for it," she said, deadly cold.

* * *

><p>"You are the absolute WORST, you know that!" Soul called from the bathroom.<p>

He could only hear Maka cackling through the other side of the door.

"I told you—not—to do it!" she said between laughs.

Soul continued to scrub the sand from his frigid asscheeks. Maka had claimed that he was lucky that she hadn't shoved the sandy snowball down the _front_ of his pants, but Soul didn't quite think "lucky" was a good way to describe it.


	9. Reckless

_Reckless_

"I leave you alone for two seconds and you're breaking bones! How? How did you even do this?"

Soul saw Maka point to his leg, but didn't look at it. Honestly it made him feel a little sick thinking about it, and moving it literally DID make him sick, so he was forced to just stare at his meister's accusatory finger and try to word this in a way that made him not sound like a huge idiot.

"So, Black Star and I found this waterfall—"

Maka put her hands up. "Never mind, I decided I don't want to know. It's gonna be some dumb story about you two deciding that finding a waterfall meant it was a great time to skinny dip or something equally dumb, and then I'm going to have to scold you more. I don't even want to know."

Well, she wasn't that far off. He and Black Star did find the small waterfall and immediately decide that it would be a great place to jump in the water and take a dip. It looked like one of those scenic spots in movies where people swing off vines and into the water and yell up to their friends "Come on in, the water's great!" How were they supposed to know that the waterfall would cause a huge undertow that would batter them silly against the rocks underneath the surface?

Oh yeah. _Logic_.

At least he wasn't naked though.

Maka sighed loudly and sat down next to Soul by the riverbank. Help would be on the way soon.

"You're really stupid, you know that?"

Soul nodded, unable to deny it at this point. He was soaking wet with a broken leg. (Star had made it out with just a black eye, the jerk.)

She surprised him by planting a kiss on his cheek.

He slowly turned to look at her, careful not to jostle his leg. "Maka?"

She kissed him again, a peck on his cold lips that made his entire body feel feverish.

She was scowling. "You made me worry about you."

His head was reeling and his leg hurt and Maka had just _kissed him_ and how was he supposed to respond to that?

"Sorry?" he muttered, voice squeaking slightly.

She kissed him once more, longer and deeper and if his leg wasn't a mangled mess he knew his toes would have been curling.

She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. "Don't do it again and there will be more where that came from."

"Deal," he said with a grin, and pulled her towards him.

His reckless streak had officially ended.


	10. Undercover

Disclaimer: I know literally nothing about ballroom dancing and after watching a bunch of tutorials I still know nothing. So beware that the form in this is probably incorrect.

...Oh. And I don't own Soul Eater. That too.

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><p><em>Undercover<em>

"I don't know, Maka. Undercover isn't really our style. Can't we just spring on 'em like we normally do?"

He could hear Maka's muffled voice from the fitting room to his left. He assumed that her dress was still stuck over her head. "You heard Kid, Soul," there was a frustrated grunt, and then her voice got much clearer as he heard more rustling of fabric. She let out a deep breath. "It's a dance competition for couples. All we have to is get past the preliminary round and then we're allowed backstage access to the main competition. That's where our guy will be."

He straightened his tie in the mirror. "I guess I'm just not seeing why we have to be_in_ the competition to nab this guy."

"Well we don't want him dining on the souls of one of the contestants, do we? It's our job to protect these people. And the best way to do that is to go undercover."

Soul grimaced in the mirror. The blood red shirt and black tie reminded him too much of the Black Room, the last place he and his partner had danced. It was years ago, and the demon had long since been a problem in his life, but the memory still stung. "It just had to be dancing, didn't it?" he muttered to himself.

"Did you say something?" he heard Maka ask from just outside his fitting room. The sound of her hand against the door made a slight creak, but she hesitated before pushing it open. "Hey, could you help zip me up? This dress is impossible to put on alone."

He turned away from the mirror with a shake of his head and opened the door, to be greeted with the sight of his meister's bare back facing him. The form-fitting red dress was unzipped all the way to her lower back, leaving Soul with the gorgeous view of his meister's pale skin, and the lacey black bra she was wearing. Maka stood patiently with her blonde hair swept aside with one hand. Swallowing thickly, Soul delicately placed his left hand on his partner's shoulder to steady her as he slowly dragged the zipper up the center of her back.

"Thanks," she said cheerily as she stepped away from him. She turned around and let go of her hair, allowing it to fall in loose curls around her shoulders. "So how do I look?"

It was hard to articulate. Liz picked a stunning dress for Maka: a deep red velvet dress that clung tightly to her body, accenting her curves and contrasting her fair skin perfectly. Soul's eyes trailed lazily down Maka's body, taking in her bare shoulders, slim figure, and the dangerously high slit on her dress. His gaze fell on the long leg that was visible through the separation of fabric, and for moment forgot the question Maka had asked him.

Soul blinked hard. "You look great," he said, awkwardly clearing his throat and turning away from her to focus on his own reflection once more.

"You do too," Maka responded with a smile. Soul couldn't help but wonder if she meant that or if she was just returning a compliment. The cool guy within him tried to convince him it didn't matter.

She joined him in the fitting room, standing beside him and winding her arm casually around his waist as she looked at them in the mirror. While Soul should have been used to the close proximity with his meister by now, his heart still began to beat a little faster at the contact.

"We make a pretty good looking couple, don't we?"

Why did she have to say stuff like that? Soul knew that she was referring to their clothes, because yes, they did look damn good in their dance attire—but that's not what he wanted her to mean. Not by a long shot. He'd been repressing it for years, but was finally coming to terms with the fact that he wanted his meister as more than a partner. It was too bad that he was still afraid to admit that out loud.

He carefully disentangled himself from her and stepped away.

"Yeah, but will we make convincing dance partners? Maka, I don't think I need to tell you this, but you're not the best dancer."

She put her hands on her hips and pouted. "I am too! I've gotten a lot better over the years! And I took those lessons a few months ago with Tsubaki at the rec center, so it's not like I don't know anything."

Soul ran his hands through his hair. "I just don't know if a couple sessions of 'Flirty Girl Fitness' or whatever will be enough to get passed the prelims of this competition."

"Flirty Girl—?" Maka's face settled into a scowl. "Fine. I'll prove it to you."

And suddenly she was grabbing him by the hand and pulling him towards her. Their bodies collided and before Soul could right himself Maka was grabbing him by the other hand and settling it on her hip.

"_What the_—? Could you warn a person before you assault them?"

Maka looked him in the eyes. "Lead me."

"What?"

She rolled her eyes, still looking miffed. "You heard me. Lead me. Just a typical waltz. I won't step on your toes or slow you down or anything. I'll show you how well my _ballroom dance lessons_ went."

Soul sighed. "If you insist."

Against his wishes to keep his hand where it was, he slid it up her body until it was resting on her left shoulder blade, supporting her right arm at the proper angle. He held his right hand out slightly above shoulder height and patiently waited for her to press her palm into his. She did, eyes on his and jaw set in determination. It was the face she made when she was preparing her mind for battle, and when her hand rested in his, he had to shut down his instinct to transform into a scythe. This was a dance, not a fight.

He began, stepping forward with his left foot and noting how Maka's right foot was gliding back effortlessly, no toes to be stepped on. He continued the dance, his right foot moving diagonally into a basic box step and Maka's movements mirroring his own. A glance from the corner of his eye told him that even her head was facing the right way, glancing just over his shoulder and never at their feet, completely trusting that he would never step on her or lead her astray. Funny, dancing with Maka was a lot like being her weapon. Even when angry they still trusted each other completely and relied one another to be there in case the other faltered.

Despite the slightly uncomfortable form (he's was unused to maintaining such impeccable posture for long periods of time), doing the waltz with Maka felt so very right. He could feel the warmth of her body from being so close to her, and holding her in his arms was a pleasant change of pace from the opposite way things normally were. He held her in such a way that he felt like the frame of an effortlessly beautiful picture, and as they danced in front of their fitting rooms he found himself glancing down often to catch glimpses of their bodies moving in sync with one another. His legs and hers were perfect mirrors of one another, save for the lack of fabric covering Maka's long slim leg.

He gazed at Maka's leg as it escaped the confines of her dress through the tall slit when suddenly Maka's hand left his shoulder and tilted his chin up until he was gazing into her eyes.

"You're looking down, Soul," she said with a small smile. "Your form is off."

"Sorry," he said hazily, shaking his head. "Got distracted."

But the dance didn't end there. Once his eyes caught hers he couldn't take them off of her. The haughty grin on her lips had melted into a natural smile, and while he could tell she was concentrating to avoid making a mistake, it seemed she couldn't keep her eyes off of him either. They continued to waltz, remaining light on their feet as they danced, and Soul even took it upon himself to spin her twice, noting with pride that his meister's footwork never faltered during the more difficult move. Her heated gaze was making him brave, and before he was even aware of his own movements he was repositioning his hands and leaning her into a dip much too deep for the waltz.

Maka hung there, suspended above ground but fully supported by his arms, facing him with a look he had never seen on her before, or at least never directed at him. It was a blaze of emerald green and bated breath, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt and her lips parted ever so slightly.

Passion, that's what it was, and it was all Soul needed to finally do it. He took the plunge, literally and figuratively, leaning his head in and watching as her chin tilted up to meet him halfway. He was close enough that he could feel her breath on his lips when Liz walked into the changing area and jumped in surprise.

"Whoa! What are you guys doing?"

The interruption seemed to break the spell over both of them. Soul immediately righted himself, pulling Maka up into a standing position before literally pushing her away from him, not look responding to Liz until she was at least an arm's length away from him

"Uhhh, we were just practicing for the competition."

Liz arched a perfectly plucked brow and looked at the space between the two of them and the blushes that must have been blooming on both of their faces. "Uh huh…Well save the mushy stuff for when you're in front of the other contestants. They're the ones who need to be fooled here, got it?"

Soul and Maka nodded stoically, waiting for Liz to leave before finally stealing glances at one another. Something told Soul that making their performance believable wouldn't be so difficult anymore.


	11. Roller Coaster

**A/N:** Writing prompt: the guy manning the roller coaster is really hot. Featuring best friend Black Star!

Disclaimer: I haven't done one of these in a while, so here's a reminder that since I am clearly writing fanfiction, I don't own Soul Eater. Though you can be damn sure that if I ever write my own show or book I'm gonna write my own fanfiction for it. And won't it be satisfying to be able to say "I actually DO own this!"

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><p>Black Star knew something was up the second Maka asked him if they could go on the ride again.<p>

Trying to get his friend to go with him to City of Death had been a long and tedious process. Maka was working on her thesis and was definitely not interested in going to the new amusement park that had finally opened up a couple miles away from their apartment building. Academia was in Maka's blood, and she was not known for procrastinating or putting aside her work for such frivolities.

"City of Death will be there in two months when the semester ends. Why can't we go then?" Maka had asked him, not even bothering to look up from her laptop as she typed.

"And wait in line for ten years behind some high school brats? Not a fucking chance. The great Black Star does not wait in long lines."

"That's because 'the great Black Star' has the attention span of a squirrel," she responded with a roll of her eyes.

Black Star huffed, marching over to her and placing his hands on either side of her face and turning her head to face him.

"Maka. You've been working on that dumb paper for ages. You're a million times farther ahead than everyone in the honors program. You can afford to take a day off."

That typical Maka-glare was back, though; the one she gave him every time he tried to convince her to do something fun.

"I am NOT taking a day off from my studies to go with you to some amusement park, Black Star. Take Tsubaki!"

"Tsu's busy. You're not." Maka opened her mouth to protest, but he slapped a hand over her mouth to silence her. "Being boring does not count as being busy. Come ON, Maka. Shove your stick-in-the-mud personality into a box for a day and bring out the fun Maka I knew when we were kids!" She glared at him and bit his hand, but Black Star hadn't wavered. "I'll even buy you a corn dog."

She rolled her eyes again, but ceased chomping on him.

"Is that a yes?"

She shoved his hand away with more force than necessary. "TWO corn dogs."

* * *

><p>One twenty-minute car ride later, and the two were at the amusement park, Maka scowling while Black Star hooped and hollered. True to Black Star's prediction, the park was relatively empty. It was the middle of the week at one p.m., so all of the younger kids they would normally be weaving through were still in school.<p>

Black Star was in heaven. Everywhere he turned there were coasters roaring past him, each one seeming to be faster and taller and more death-defying than the last. They went on nearly every ride in the park, and though Maka would never admit it out loud, Black Star could tell she was starting to have fun. She tried hard to hide it, frowning while they stood in line and furiously typing notes into her cell phone of things to research later when she returned home, but the smile she bit back when they got off every ride was enough to convince him that this trip was worth it for her as well.

He didn't realize how _much _it was worth it to her until she suggested that they go on the River Styx ride again. Black Star had looked at her incredulously and almost thought about asking if he'd heard her right. Maka had been keeping up the pretense of being annoyed for so long that day that he never would have believed that she would openly admit to wanting to go on a roller coaster for the second time. Especially River Styx, with its four-loop long corkscrew and multiple barrel rolls that he knew normally gave Maka headaches after a while.

But he went along with it, following her up the stairs to the launching platform and getting into the cart with her. It was then that he noticed the way the River Styx roller coaster operator was looking at Maka, all easy-going smiles and sharp eyes. He was the same guy who had been running the ride the first time they rode it. Black Star couldn't tell if the guy had altered his appearance to look freaky for the job or not, but the snow-white hair, blood red eyes, shark teeth combo was wicked awesome, if not totally weird. The guy came over to check to check their seat belts, and Black Star raised an eyebrow at the way the dude lingered near Maka, murmuring something to her that he couldn't hear, while Maka tittered in response.

It then occurred to Black Star that Maka Albarn was flirting, and for once Black Star was speechless. Never in his life had he seen the girl show interest in a man for more than a minute, and it was even rarer that he actually saw her actively pursue someone. He didn't say anything when she turned away from the man and finally looked back at him, or when she muttered an annoyed "What?" at the look he was giving her.

The ride started, and Black Star gave up trying to understand Maka in lieu of enjoying the feeling of his stomach leaping into his throat at the first big drop. The ride was over in two minutes, and both Maka and Black Star laughed at each other's windblown hair as they climbed out of the cart.

"Wanna go again?"

His suspicions were confirmed when he watched his best friend begin climbing up the stairs without waiting for his response. Black Star had to take the stairs two at a time to catch up with her, and when he finally found her she was already at the launching station, leaning over the railing and chatting up the guy operating the roller coaster. He laughed at whatever she said, then went over to the microphone to explain the safety rules to the people who had just got on the ride.

Black Star walked over to Maka, smirking.

"You've certainly taken a liking to this ride. Could it be that Maka-the-prude has the hots for Grandpa?" he asked, jerking his thumb at the white-haired worker, who just got finished telling people to keep their hands in the cart at all times.

Maka elbowed him. "_No_, I just happened to like this ride."

Black Star snorted loud enough to make the couple in line behind them stare. "Liar."

The cart took off and a new one took its place. Maka waited for the gates to open and pulled Black Star by the ear towards the seats in the first row.

"I'm allowed to have a favorite ride, idiot. Now shut up."

Maka's favorite roller coaster operator came over to check their seat belts, and Black Star ignored the look he was getting from his friend and leaned over to speak to the stranger.

"It's okay, dude. We're totally not dating. You can bang her as long as your willing to put up with her bad fashion sense, nerdiness, and temper-"

Maka flushed and elbowed Black Star hard in the face, shutting him up but not wiping the shit-eating grin from his face. The worker's eyes widened at her violence towards her friend, but he didn't appear put off by it. Maka was too busy burying her face in her hands in embarrassment, but the guy was actually smiling at her actions. He left them to check the four other passengers' seat belts, all while Maka spent her time alternating between whispering death threats to Black Star and whining about how mortified she was.

Grandpa began giving the same speech about safety that Maka and Black Star had heard a million times that day, but both of them looked up in shock when he adlibbed the ending.

"—hands and feet inside the cart at all times, and remember to pick up you belongings from the bins after the ride is over. City of Death is not responsible for lost or stolen items. And if the girl in the front wants to go for a cup of coffee later, my shift ends at five. Enjoy River Styx!"

Black Star laughed as Maka's eyes bugged out of her head as the worker turned the key to start the ride. She swiveled her head back to look at him, but the cart was moving too fast up the hill for her to meet his eye.

"Did he just say what I think he said?" Maka asked Black Star, still in shock.

"I'd like to take credit for helping you get laid," was Black Star's only reply, right before they hit the first hill and plunged towards the earth.

When the ride was over, Maka made a beeline fore the stairs, and it wasn't until she was safely on the ground and away from the man who just asked her out that she punched Black Star hard in the arm.

"Hey! What's your damage? I just HELPED you!"

Maka's hard gaze pierced through him, though Black Star couldn't help but notice she looked a little pale.

"You didn't have to be so crude about it!"

Black Star shrugged. "It was either that or go on the River Styx another seven times so you could ogle him. And as fun as that sounds, those two corn dogs you ate a half hour ago are gonna come back to haunt you eventually. I was actually saving you a lot of trouble."

She glared at him, then looked back up at the ride uncertainly. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"Go back up there and plant one on him!"

"Black Star!"

He sighed. "Go tell him you'll meet him at Death Bucks at five thirty. It'll give you time to drop me off on campus."

She wrung her hands for a moment before nodded, nervously climbing the stairs like she was going to meet her executioner instead of going to accept a date. Black Star rolled his eyes and followed her up the stairs, figuring he'd better make sure Maka didn't chicken out.

When he reached the launching platform, he found a very timid Maka nodding at something the white-haired guy said, then her eyes flying open wide. Black Star was confused about what was going on until he saw her run to the nearest trashcan and loudly hurl into it.

Black Star sighed and shook his head, walking over to his best friend and sweeping her hair up so it wouldn't get covered in puke, and looked to the very concerned-looking roller coaster operator.

"She'll meet you at Death Bucks at five thirty. And if you go out to dinner? I don't suggest corn dogs."


	12. Ravaged

**A/N:** "The delivery guy fucked up and gave me a pizza i didn't order so i kinda ate half of it & now the pizza owner is here for their pizza and they're cute what do i do" AU.

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><p><em>Ravaged<em>

The pizza guy standing on Soul's doorstep was a literal godsend. After being holed up in his home for three days with the flu, he couldn't recall the last time he had eaten real food that wasn't chicken soup. He didn't question where the large pizza came from or ask how it was paid for, just passed the delivery boy and five dollar tip and accepted the pie with open arms.

He set the box down on the coffee table in his living room and flipped open the lid, revealing the most gorgeous Meat Lover's pizza he'd seen in his life. Soul didn't even bother to swipe away the drool that dribbled out of the corner of his mouth, just dove in. After practically inhaling the first slice, Soul slowed down a little to appreciate the flavor of the second. By the fourth, he had practically reached nirvana. Pizza had never tasted so good.

He was reaching for his fifth slice when he heard his doorbell ring. Soul half-expected a Jimmy Johns worker to be there to offer him a sandwich free of charge as well.

Instead he found his new neighbor standing on his stoop, offering him a polite smile. She had a book in her hand, like she was reading before she decided to pay Soul a visit and couldn't be bothered to put the novel down. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of forest green that he had never seen on another person before, and her hair was pulled into two endearing pigtails low on her head. She was adorable, and Soul wondered why he never bothered talking to her before this.

"You rang?" he asked, leaning against his doorjamb and trying to sound suave.

"Yeah, I noticed that a pizza delivery truck just pulled away from our block, and I was wondering if he gave you my pizza by mistake." She smiled again and thumped her palm against her forehead. "Stupid me keeps putting the wrong address on everything. My last apartment was number 42D, so I keep writing 4242 instead of 4241 on all of my delivery receipts."

The suave-facade quickly faded when Soul came to realize that the half of a Meat Lover's pizza that was being digested inside of him was never his to begin with. Suddenly it didn't seem like such a godsend, because now the cute girl-next-door was here to retrieve her food, but half of it had just hit his lower intestine.

Soul fumbled a bit. "Uh…yeah. See, the thing about that is—"

Soul had straightened up, pushing himself off the doorjamb to talk to the girl properly, but once her vision was unobstructed, he could see in her eyes that it was all over.

Those beautiful forest green eyes were currently glancing over his shoulder and looking at the open pizza box in the center of his living room, right in plain sight.

"Is that MY PIZZA?" the girl practically shouted, causing Soul to flinch. Without preamble, she shouldered past Soul and entered his home without permission, stomping over to his coffee table and staring at what was left of her pie. "You ATE IT?"

"I didn't know—!"

Before Soul could get out a proper explanation, he was being savagely beaten by the novel in the girl's hands. She brought the spine down on his head, hard, and raised it back up to bludgeon him again. "You didn't pay for it, you moron! Why would you think it was yours!"

"I'm an idiot! I'm sorry! Please stop with the book!" he said pathetically, trying to push her away. Her persistence with that novel would have been impressive if Soul wasn't the one getting concussed by it.

She stopped finally, apparently happy that she had beaten at least half of Soul's brain cells to mush in a less than a minute's time. Those forest green eyes focused hard on him again, and while Soul was still enthralled by them, mostly he was just terrified.

"What can I do to make it up to you? Do you want the other half of the pizza?"

The girl practically growled at him. Soul took that as a no.

"I-I could buy you another one? With a side of breaksticks?"

She glared at him for a moment, then at what was left of her original pizza. "Fine. But make it cinna-stix."

"Deal," he said, relieved that she had agreed on the terms and didn't go back to abusing him with that damn book.

Soul took out his phone and swiped a few times until he made it to the contacts screen. He handed the phone to her. "Here, put your number in my phone so I can call you when your food gets here."

She did so, begrudgingly, then handed it back to him. Maka. Her name was Maka.

Maka was suddenly thrusting her phone in his face as well. "In case I need to contact you for when you inevitably try to steal my food again."

"I wasn't trying—" Soul stopped. He supposed it didn't matter. Either way, he was exchanging numbers with the pretty girl next store. All in all, maybe that pizza was a godsend, for letting Soul meet this adorable girl with such a fiery personality. Maybe something good would come of it.

Even if she did label him in her phone as "Hungry Hungry Hippo."


	13. Delirium

**A/N:** This prompt came like two minutes after the other one, so here's more SoMa with pizza! This one is set in a College AU.

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><p><em>Delirium<em>

Maka hadn't slept in 23 hours, and she wondered if this was what dying felt like. Her whole body had a slight tremble that she couldn't seem to control, everything seemed much too bright for so early in the morning, and the whole world seemed to be tipping slightly to the right.

Writing this research paper for her sociology class felt very literally like the death of her, and she wondered if she made the right decision choosing this as her major. She wondered if going to college itself was even a good choice. She wondered if she was gaining the ability to see sound.

All in all, Maka was completely frazzled as she typed up the conclusion to her research essay, not at all knowing if it made sense and feeling too far gone to care at this point. Her mind was reeling and her stomach was rumbling, and right now her only concern was to finish this damn paper so she wouldn't have to be conscious anymore.

The library was quiet save for the sound of her mad typing, her fingers beating the keys harder than necessary because she didn't have the brain function to quiet herself. She was typing up her ending sentence when she saw a white-haired boy with large headphones entering her section of the library. She would have thought nothing of it, but what was in his hands gave her pause.

Maka didn't know how or where, but the boy had managed to obtain a slice of extra cheesy pizza, covered in glistening pepperoni.

The ravenous beast inside of her had the urge to spring on him right then and there. Maka had eaten nothing but granola bars and animal crackers for the last 12 hours, and she was nothing short of starving. The irrational, sleep deprived part of her saw that large slice of pizza and decided it would be hers.

And just her luck, the boy set the slice down. It was almost too easy! He dropped the paper plate next to the computer he was going to use, and while he was waiting for it to boot up, stood up and went over to one of the rows off books, off to go research something.

Maka was only two computers away from the heavenly piece of junk food, and while scooting her rolling chair over ten feet to the left was more challenging than Maka would have guessed (the whole world tilting slightly to the right had something to do with that) she made it to his slice of cheese-covered wonder before he had returned.

The sane part of Maka (or what little was left of it) screamed at her. Was she nuts? About to just go and snatch some random stranger's food? She wasn't a raccoon, she was a human girl who could afford her own food, after she finished and proofread her research paper.

That part of Maka was easily drowned out, though. Once words like "research" and "proofread" were uttered, the sleep-deprived part of her brain committed cranial mutiny, leaving behind sanity in the wake of free pizza.

It was just as Maka was reaching her hands out to pick up the slice that she heard a voice from behind her.

"Oi, Pigtails. What do you think your doing with my food?"

Half of her was tempted to grab the slice anyway, damning herself and the boy and the world just for the sake of one cheesy bite. But finally, Maka's rational half was able to break through the chaos going on in her mind, and she dropped her hands in surprised shame.

"I—I don't know…." she said, realizing how foolish she looked, leaning over the armrest of her chair with her arms outstretched towards someone else's food.

The boy snorted. "Rough night?" he asked, and gestured to her cluttered computer space, strewn with notecards and highlighters and at least three different encyclopedias.

She frowned and nodded, planting her feet on the ground and attempting to scoot her chair back over to her area. After a good thirty seconds of awkward silence while Maka dragged herself back to her own computer, the boy called to her again.

"Hey."

She turned back at him and watched him roll his chair over to hers with ease, plate of pizza in his outstretched hand.

"Take it. You look like you need it more than I do."

Maka swore she almost cried. She looked at the boy, who was tan, with a strong jaw, sharp red eyes, and a mop of white hair, and was so enthralled by his handsomeness and look of concern for her that she could have kissed him.

But that part of her brain was squandered immediately, in favor of scarfing down the delicious slice of pizza in her hands.


	14. Definitely Don't Miss You

Prompt from l0chn3ss on tumblr: "It's not what it looks like."

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><p>"Maka?" Soul didn't even ask a question, just arched an accusing brow at her while she continued to turn red.<p>

"It's not what it looks like!"

Maka cursed herself for not setting an alarm last night. She didn't hear Soul come in this morning, so that meant when he came into his room and threw his duffel bag at his bed, neither of them were expecting the screech that came out of Maka's mouth when it hit her. Soul jumped back, wide-eyed as he watched his meister bolt up out of bed, _his_ bed, and grab his guitar as a weapon against an intruder. When Soul realized who was in his bed he immediately calmed down, but Maka laying eyes on her weapon was probably worse than an intruder because it meant she had been caught!

It certainly didn't help matters that once Maka had released her death grip on his comforter, the down blanket fell away to reveal the orange Piano Man tshirt she had been wearing.

This looked bad. This looked very bad. Maka was laying in Soul's bed and wearing his clothes and looking very guilty and she knew he would not believe her explanation because who would?

And no, it wasn't because Soul was gone all weekend and no, she did NOT miss him, it was just a necessity after the weekend she had just had.

It was simply because a mouse had ran across the floor in her room. Maka was NOT a fan of mice and Blair was not around to catch it and Soul wasn't around to kill it, so on instinct Maka screamed like a freaking banshee and ran out of her room, slamming the door shut behind her and trapping the vermin inside so she wouldn't have to see it.

That meant she had to spend all weekend sleeping on the couch and wearing the same tank top and shorts combo she had put on Friday night before she had found the terrible rodent scurrying across her bedroom floor.

And after a while she started getting a kink in her neck from sleeping on the couch and she was starting to get cold in her tank top. So it only made sense that she borrowed one of his shirts and took a quick nap in his bed. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the Piano Man shirt was Soul's favorite and she felt a little closer to him when she wore it. And the smell of Soul's shampoo on his pillow definitely didn't effect Maka when she buried her face into the warmth of his bed.

Maka being alone for a full weekend was_ fine_. She was fine.

She was only taking over his room because there was a mouse in hers. And Soul wasn't there to kill it for her.

But the half-smile on his face on his face right now told her that he probably thought different.

"Missed you too, nerd," he told her warmly as ruffled her bedhead.

Maka's cheeks only flushed further. Maybe she'd wait a second before she told him about the mouse.


	15. Liar

Prompt from soulffles on tumblr: "You lied to me." + angst

This is a part of my madness AU, Valley of Shadows, which you don't need to read to understand this, though I'd definitely recommend it just because I happen to think it's one of the better things that I've written. But basically the gist of it is that everyone is feeling the Kishin's madness and starting to go crazy from it. Not just Stein. And the Black Blood makes it way worse for Soul.

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><p>When she returned to their apartment, Soul was gone.<p>

Maka went through the motions of checking every room and calling out his name into the abysmal silence, but she had known the second she stepped through the threshold that he had left.

He had been getting much worse lately. The episodes were lasting much longer, and try as he could to control them, they both knew that was a hopeless cause from the start. She almost missed the days when he would stare catatonically in the distance for a minute or two before returning to the present and meeting her eyes with a sad smile. Those days seemed so much simpler.

The hell inside Soul's head had only gotten worse. While Maka had just recently started seeing visions (she almost never glanced in her peripherals now in fear of what she might see), Soul's Black Blood from the Demon Sword had accelerated his madness tenfold. His visions of death and destruction came almost immediately, plaguing his mind at night and during the day, when he would stare off into space for minutes on end, unable to snap out of it if he tried. Then came the laughter, the terrifyingly mad laughter that would escape from his lips, his face splitting into a serrated grin so menacing that Maka herself had trouble not being frightened of him. And finally his body began to move on its own accord.

That was the most recent side effect of the madness. And while Soul's body was typically too slow to cause any real harm to him or anyone else, recently his arm began to transform into a scythe during the episodes, and that's when things got dangerous. When Soul had finally snapped out of his recent episode, there was glass shattered all over the floor, and Maka was clutching at her side. The blood dripping from her fingertips almost made him sick.

"You bastard," Maka muttered quietly to her empty apartment. She looked around his room for a note, an explanation, anything, but there was nothing.

"I didn't even need stitches!" she yelled at his infuriatingly plain room. His boxers were still on the floor, his guitar was still on the wall, his bed was still unmade. Tears started to spill from her eyes. "It was barely a scratch."

Why didn't he even clean his room before he left her? She picked up his dirty clothes and threw them viciously at his hamper, not bothering to wipe the saltwater from her face.

"We said we would fight this together." She threw some balled up socks in his hamper. "I said I would never leave you alone." She went to work pulling his sheets until they were taut against his bed. "You _told me_ you would keep fighting. You said you would never give up."

Finally she couldn't take it. She threw herself onto his bed, letting her tears seep into his bedding as she screamed.

"You_ lied _to me! You left me!"

Maka could hear the voices whisper in the back of her mind, but she ignored them for now. She knew that this time she truly was alone.


	16. Sundays Taste Sweet

_Sundays Taste Sweet_

He wakes up to the smell of cinnamon french toast, and if he didn't already know how in love he was, this smell alone would have convinced him.

The bed is cold beside him, so Soul can only guess that Maka's been up for a while. She's always been an early riser, a concept he never understood about her when they were kids and understands even less now. With Death Scythe missions every week and classes to teach and music to play, how can she possibly justify being awake before the sun even is?

He pads barefooted down the hall. She's facing away from him, grumbling over the stove about lazy weapons and never having enough eggs, but Soul's heart still squeezes a little at the sight of her. Her hair is thrown up into a messy ponytail (the tip of it dusted in powdered sugar somehow) and an apron with owls printed on it is tied neatly on her lower back. She's his and that feeling will never stop being amazing.

She looks at the clock and grumbles again about how late it is, and she's so preoccupied with being disgruntled she doesn't hear him when he comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist.

She jumps for only a second, and then she's relaxing, leaning against his chest almost involuntarily.

"It's noon, Soul," she grumbles.

"And what a beautiful afternoon it is," he says into her neck.

"You're such a bum," she replies, but she's practically humming as she says it. "You know we have things to do today."

"But waking up to your breakfasts is my favorite part of the weekend, and I know how much you loving cooking in the afternoon," he says, waiting for her to take her sweet-smelling toast off the skillet before turning her around and pecking her on the cheek. She snickers when he mumbles into her skin about her tasting like powered sugar, then squeaks when he drags his tongue along her cheek and leaves a trail of wet slobber behind.

"Yuccccck! A bum and a gross one, at that!" She smacks him in the butt with her spatula and tries to look serious. "Go get dressed, you flirty slacker. We're going crib shopping today."

"Oh! I almost forgot." Soul stoops down, his knees touching the cool linoleum floor until he's eye level with Maka's owl-covered apron. "Good afternoon, baby." He plants yet another kiss on Maka, right below her belly button. The swell of her stomach is just big enough to be noticeable now, and he'll never be tired of watching it grow.

He feels a tug at his hair and looks up at his wife. "Alright, alright, quit your slacking and go get dressed." He complies, leaving the kitchen, but not without swiping a piece of french toast from the plate and letting it hang from his mouth as Maka squawks.

"And I better not find you back in bed, Eater!"

And sure, he might have considered it, but the promise of the afternoon is too tempting for him to ignore.


	17. Not Even a Cat Person

**A/N:** After the stress of ResBang check-ins, I finally have time to do a couple one-shots here and there! So here is some stress relief in the form of a 'next-door neighbors AU.'

Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater or a cat.

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><p><em>Not Even a Cat Person<em>

"Oh my God, Blair. Please. Do not do this."

Maka realizes how crazy she looks. She's standing at base of a tree, _pleading_ with a tempestuous feline that's perched casually on the outstretching branch hanging over her neighbor's house. Before this she was whisper-yelling, and before that she was attempting to bribe the dumb cat, the can of tuna she was offering long since discarded on the ground when she realized that wasn't what Blair wanted.

As if to purposefully disobey Maka, the blue-gray tabby jumps from the tree to the balcony, running inside the home of Maka's new neighbor.

"God _dammit._"

And that's how Maka finds herself climbing her next-door neighbor's trellis, thanking God that one is so conveniently placed here (because really, who actually owns trellises outside of movies?) and praying that the thin wood doesn't break under her weight. She acknowledges that this is definitely breaking and entering, but considering the only thing she is taking from his house is _her cat_, she thinks that maybe it doesn't really count. Okay, it definitely counts and the trellis is definitely groaning a lot despite the fact that she's so small, but she's choosing not to dwell on either of those facts. All she knows is that Blair is a bitch of a cat and will pee on everything in this man's house unless she retrieves her. And maybe, just maybe, the guy won't be home.

She flips over the balcony railing with about as much grace as a drugged seal, flopping flat on her back and groaning quietly in pain. She sits up and looks around, noting that the French doors leading into his house are cracked open just enough for a spiteful cat to slip inside.

The kitchen light is on and Maka curses her luck even more, because this guy is definitely home and she is almost definitely screwed. Especially because Blair is sitting on his kitchen counter cleaning herself smugly, and Maka knows that to retrieve her cat she's going to have to enter this man's house.

"Okay," she whispers under her breath, because she really needs a pep talk right now and the only one to give it is her. "Sneak in, get the cat, get out. Then maybe mail this guy an anonymous fruit basket for breaking into his house. Unless he's more of a muffin guy—"

And that's when the guy-next-door emerges from the bathroom into his kitchen, his fair hair damp and his waist wrapped in only a towel.

Maka's mouth drops. Dear Lord, he is _hot_.

And totally walking right towards her cat. Oh shit.

"Hey lil fella, what are you doing in my kitchen? Are you making dinner tonight?" The man walks over to Blair and scratches behind her ear. Maka smiles behind her hand. "And what's that smell?"

Oh God. It can't be. She inhales as hard as she can without being too loud, and then she smells it. Cat pee. Blair has peed somewhere in this attractive man's kitchen.

She scans the room briefly from where she's hiding behind a ficus, but she can't find the source of the pee smell. But she does see her toned neighbor touch Blair's collar and search for a license.

"So you're not a stray, huh? Then I guess I should probably return you to your family. They might be worried about you."

'Worried' is putting it lightly. Maka never even wanted a cat to begin with, but when a stray had kittens in her backyard and abandoned them she felt she had no choice but to take them in. Apparently choosing Blair as the one to keep was a poor mistake on her part, because the cat was much more trouble than she was worth. No, Maka isn't worried about Blair, who is fully capable of running away and breaking into other people's houses, she is worried about _this man_, who now has to deal with her. And who is getting much too close to Blair's grabby little claws for comfort.

Blair rolls onto her back and swings her paws at the man playfully, and when he chuckles Maka has to hold in a squeak at the low rumble that comes from him. For a moment she becomes entirely too distracted by his warm smile and the way he wiggles his fingers above her cat's head, and she almost doesn't notice when the palm hovering over Blair's wriggling form reaches to stroke her soft belly. As tempting as such a location on her cat may look, that _not_ a place he should be touching.

"No!" Maka shouts in warning, standing up abruptly and hitting her elbow on the balcony's ficus pot. Her neighbor lets out a curse and almost falls backwards into his kitchen, and Blair screeches and darts out of the room, hissing all the way down the hall and disappearing into another open door.

"Who the fuck are you?!" he howls about three octaves higher than earlier, gripping the towel around his waist like his life depended on it.

Maka's hands are up and out in a panicked flurry. "Nonono! I know this looks bad, but I'm just here for my cat!"

She just now sees that the man is also brandishing a meat thermometer in his other hand, but he's so frazzled he doesn't even have the pointed end facing forward.

"How did you get in my house, you pervert!"

"Pervert!" Maka cries out indignantly. "I didn't know you'd be naked. I didn't know you'd be here at all!"

"So you just planned on breaking in?!"

Maka is beginning to realize how poorly thought through this plan was. "I don't—I just—She was going to pee all over your house! She's an asshole and she does it all the time to me and I didn't want her to ruin all your stuff. I was just going to grab her and climb back down—"

"Wait." He lowers his meat thermometer for a moment. "You climbed up the trellis?" Maka sighs and nods. "How were you going to get down with a cat in your arms?"

"I—" Maka pauses. "I don't know."

The man sighs too. "Listen, 'm gonna go put some pants on and find your cat. You—just—just stay there. And pick up the ficus, please. It was a gift from my mother, and she'd kill me if I ruined it."

Maka mechanically bends down and picks up the overturned pot as her neighbor retreats, taking extra time to scoop up the soil and woodchips from the ground and place them back into the pot. A few minutes later, the man returns, wearing a blue and white baseball tee and a pair of sweats, and holding a completely calm cat in his arms. The traitor.

He scratches the back of his neck. "So I guess she belongs to you?"

Maka closes her eyes and bows her head a little. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to cause you so much trouble!"

"It's fine, I guess I just need to start locking my balcony door." Maka can't help but be a little hurt by that. But of course, she deserves it. She's the pervert who broke into this man's house. She wouldn't be surprised if he bought a whole new security system thanks to her. "I mean, if this little guy could get in, who knows what other animals might stop by while I'm not paying attention."

It occurs to Maka that he wasn't talking about her breaking in, but rather, her cat. The fact that she was not included on the undesirable intruders list makes her feel a little better.

"Blair," she tells him. "Her name is Blair. Oh, and I'm Maka," she adds almost as an afterthought. "And don't worry, she's going to be locked up for a long time after this stunt." Maka reaches her arms out for her cat, and he places Blair in them carefully. The second the tabby is transferred back into her rightful owner's arms, she begins squirming.

"I'm Soul," he says. He half-smiles and pets Blair again, and Maka is very tempted to throw the damn cat out the window when Blair immediately stills and presses her forehead into the man's palm. She's never done that for Maka.

"Well, I should be going. Thanks for giving me my cat back. And not, you know, pressing charges or anything."

"Wait!"

Maka stops walking and turns. "Hmm?"

"Would you be interested in coming back sometime? I don't really know anyone in town yet so I was thinking—" He coughs a little and rubs the back of his neck again. "I mean, we are neighbors after all. I'll even let you climb the trellis again if you're not comfortable using front doors."

Maka lets out a high-pitched laugh, and she's not sure if it's from embarrassment or nerves. "S-sure, that'd be great."

She notices she's not the only one breathing a sigh of relief at her answer, and his nerves make her smile for a moment before the scent in the living room registers in her brain.

Her first date with the hot-guy-next-door ends up being the two of them cleaning cat pee out of his couch, and while it's not how Maka would have planned for it to go, she still makes sure to give Blair a couple treats when she gets home.


	18. Dirty

**A/N:** Bet I fooled ya with that chapter title, huh? It's not smut, though. I got mad about having to do laundry at college so I forced Maka and Soul to do laundry at college too. So here's kinda buddies/kind shippy thing? I don't know. Just know that I hate laundry day.

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><p><em>Dirty<em>

Maka's fingers are still slippery with drops of blue laundry detergent as she pats herself down for her keycard. She knows that she brought it with her, but it's not in her cardigan pocket, and the damn skirt she's wearing doesn't even _have_ pockets, so where is it?

She checks under her laundry basket, on the floor, and is opening the door to her washing machine to practically crawl inside of it when she hears a low voice from behind her.

"Hey, Albarn, you lose something?"

"Eeah!" she squeaks and smacks her head on the inside of the machine, cursing herself silently for being such an embarrassment. When she finally extracts herself from her machine full of dirty clothes, she sees a familiar hand holding out her keycard.

"Oh my God, _thank you_, Soul. Where was it?"

Soul drops his laundry empty laundry basket on top of a washer with five minutes still to go on it and jerks a thumb towards the hallway. "Back in the stairwell. Musta dropped it when you were walking down here."

Maka goes over to the electronic pay station and swipes her Death City University ID down, pressing the numbers one, two, and three and hearing her machines whirring to life.

"Shit, Maka. That's what, like three machines? Do you ever do laundry?"

The answer to that was a firm no, of course. Before her parents split she used to go home to do laundry almost every week, but now with her father parading around his new bachelor pad in his underwear all the time Maka has made the choice to do her laundry at school. And hauling her laundry down three floors to the basement of her dorm every week is such a pain, so why not just wait until she runs out of clothes and wash them all at once? She tells Soul this, and he looks at her like she's grown another head.

"And you call _me_ lazy." She tries to protest but he's already barking out a laugh. "I guess that explains the skirt too, doesn't it?" His voice is an octave higher when he laughs, something that Maka can't take the time to appreciate when he's aiming his jokes at her. "You're out of clean pants, aren't you?"

The angry blush creeping across her cheeks as she looks down at her knee-length navy skirt confirms this, but little does Soul know that the skirt serves two purposes, since she's also out of clean underwear. She presses her knees together unconsciously and growls at him.

"Hey, hey, I didn't say I didn't like it! It looks nice! Not that sweats and a tshirt isn't a good look for you, but—"

She cuts her friend off with a pinch to the arm that makes him yelp. He's referring to freshman year, when they met in an English comp class that neither of them wanted to take. (Maka was enraged because she clearly didn't need to take 101, she was an English major for fuck's sake; she already understood basic grammar. Soul just didn't like that it was a required class. Maka believes his exact words were "fuck this shit, I have autocorrect and spellcheck to know grammar and spelling for me.") Since the God-forsaken class was at eight in the morning, Maka was not keen on dressing up for class. In fact, on days she was so inclined, she didn't even change out of her pajama pants. That's what college was all about, right?

"I have changed a lot since freshman year, jerk," she says and smacks his arm lightly.

"Sure, sure, because now you were skirts."

She considers hitting him again when his laundry machine finally buzzes. Soul pops it open and pulls out a pair of boxers with a frown.

Maka presses her palms to her rumbling machine and lifts herself onto it, smoothing her skirt down and scanning Soul's annoyed face. "What, stains won't come out?" she says with a teasing smile.

Soul's expression deepens into a glare when he turns and displays the light blue boxers with little skeletons on them. In the center of the butt area is a big brown spot.

Maka almost falls off her machine, screeching out a laugh and doubling over at the sight of the giant stain and Soul's deathly expression, and she can't tell if it's her or her machine that's shaking so much.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry!" she says, though she's still crying from laughter. "I was just joking. I didn't know you actually shat your pants!"

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, asshole, but it's not a shit stain. It's my shit stain of a roommate."

She's surprised she can still speak through her gasps. "Did Black Star poop in your boxers?"

"_No,_ he decided to pour a bunch of chocolate pudding in my dresser. Part of a frat prank or something. And now the stains won't come out."

Because Maka is a mature adult, she finally calms her guffaws down to snickers, rubbing her eyes with the meat of her palm. "Well, that's what you get for having him live with you instead of dumping him with his brothers."

Soul throws his boxers back in the washer. "Well, fat chance if I'm letting that happen again. I'm leaving his ass next semester, I swear to God." He turns to her. "Let me come live with you, please? You have a single, don't you?"

She snorts. "I could never live with you. I've seen your room, Soul. I'd die among the junk."

"Says the Queen of Dirty Laundry."

She pouts. "While that may be true, at least my room hasn't developed a _smell._"

"It's not me! It's Black Star!"

She cocks an eyebrow at that. "Oh really? So you're telling me that if I sniff you right now, you won't be the least bit stinky?"

He looks unsure of her. "You're not really gonna smell me, are you?"

But she's already jumping off her machine and lifting up his arm while he squawks. She pretends to stick her nose under it, but settles for drumming her fingers across his ribs in a way that has him shaking with laughter which she knows he secretly loves. She abuses his ticklish spot for couple moments before Soul pushes her at arm's length away, gasping and smiling like an idiot.

"I. Hate. You," he lies. "And I would totally get you back if I knew you wouldn't give me a black eye for tickling you."

"Smart man," she quips, gliding around him in her last pair of clean socks and opening up his machine once more. "And I suppose I could let you know that you don't actually stink. At least not now." Soul crouches next to her and bumps her with his hip, and she returns it. She glances into the washer and whistles, low and long. "Well damn, he got all of your underwear, didn't he?"

Soul just mumbles something the sounds like "fuck Black Star" under his breath.

"Alright, how about I help you get these stains out, and then you can pay me back by carrying all my laundry up to the third floor for me."

He looks at her indignantly. "How is that a fair trade? I have to do a bunch of heavy lifting just to _borrow your Spray 'N Wash_? You're stronger than me anyway!"

Maka smiles. "Yes, but I also have a single with an extra bed. I'll let you spend the night. And pick the movie we watch. Deal?"

Soul looks beside him at her three machines, looking a little intimidated. But when he looks back at the chocolate covered boxers in front of him he sighs.

"Fine, but you're helping me fold these."

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><p><strong>AN:** And have I mentioned yet how fantastic all you reviewers are? Thank you so much for all of your words of encouragement! It makes me so happy to read them! So thank you. A lot.


	19. Come to My Window

**A/N:** It seems that AUs about Maka breaking into Soul's apartment have become my niche. To be fair though, this was a veeeery old WIP that I wanted to finish to prove I was capable of finishing things. So. Here you go.

Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater, General Hospital, Pacific Rim, Poptarts, uhh or anything else capitalized in this fic. You get the idea.

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><p>"Star, you better get the fuck away from that TV, you know it's my night to watch my recordings!"<p>

Soul continued towel-drying his hair in the bathroom, but he could still hear a woman crying on their television in the living room. Soul swore to God he was going to smack his roommate. What was the point of them making a schedule if Black Star was going to watch his fucking recordings of General Hospital whenever he wanted to?

Soul looked at his hair in the mirror and frowned when he saw it starting to curl up at the edges. He'd have to re-wet it tomorrow and dry it properly before he went out, lest the ladies see him looking like a curly-haired dink. He heard the woman from the TV again, and marched out of the bathroom to give his obnoxious soap opera-loving roommate a tongue-lashing.

When he entered the living room of his apartment, though, he was shocked to find that it wasn't his roommate sitting on his couch watching TV, but an actual girl, actually crying.

"Uh. You're not my roommate," Soul said, pointing out the obvious.

The girl jumped and turned around, looking at him with wide, confused eyes. Okay, maybe the not so obvious.

"Who are you?!" she shouted at him.

"The guy who lives here?" He arched a brow at her. "Who are you?"

She stood up and wobbled a bit as she surveyed her surroundings.

"Ohhhh no. Oh no. Not again!" she put her hands to her face, looking like she was going to start crying again.

"What do you mean, 'not again'? Who are you and how did you get into our apartment!"

She kept her face in her hands. "I climbed into the wrong apartment," she murmured.

"Climbed into–?" he looked across the room, and noticed that the window was open. "Wait just a goddamned minute," he ran over to the window and stuck his head out, looking down at street below, two stories beneath him. "You _scaled the building?!_"

She didn't seemed to be listening though. Instead she was talking to herself. "I swore I counted right this time. This is the third floor of the third apartment building on the street—"

"Fourth."

She finally looked at him, green eyes piercing. "What?"

"This is the fourth apartment building on this street."

She groaned and fell back to the couch. "Counting shouldn't be this hard. I'm not even that drunk."

Soul couldn't get past one small detail. "So you're telling me, strange girl on my couch–"

"Maka."

"–Maka, that you scaled the side of my building, opened my window, and broke into my apartment, all while drunk?"

She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and looked at him bitterly. "Not _that_ drunk."

"You couldn't count to three! You didn't even break into the right apartment! And what's wrong with using the stairs?"

"Tsubaki locks her door at night, but she doesn't lock her windows."

Soul blinked. This girl was insane.

"Can I stay here for the night?"

"_What?_"

"My arms are tired, and I can't go back to my apartment. My ex is camped outside my door, and I'm not in the mood."

"You don't even know who I am!"

"That's because you haven't introduced yourself."

Soul grabbed a fistful of his hair and groaned. How could someone he didn't even know be so frustrating?

"Listen, if I'm being too much of a bother, I can leave."

She stood up again, walking towards his door and looking very close to tripping over her own feet. Soul couldn't comprehend how the girl managed to climb up three stories without falling, but could hardly walk in a straight line. When she started to tip, Soul was there to steady her, holding onto her arm until she stood upright.

"Fine, you can stay here. You're in no condition to be walking around in the dark alone, and if I let you go you might climb up the Empire State building and start swatting at planes."

"We're in Nevada."

Soul sighed and Maka laughed. "You're funny. So, can I sleep on your couch–?"

"Soul."

"–Soul?"

Soul shook his head at himself. Could tonight get any weirder? He couldn't believe that he was letting a stranger stay in his apartment. This girl could have been a mass murderer for all he knew. Hell, even if she wasn't, the girl scaled his apartment building while completely wasted. Either way he shouldn't trust her. But behind the drunken haze was a twinkle in her green eyes that made Soul curious. He wanted to know more about this girl.

"Fine, but even though you're sleeping out here, I'm still gonna watch my recording of Pacific Rim."

"Fine by me," she said with the most nonchalant shrug he'd ever seen from someone who accidentally breaks into people's apartments on a regular basis. He released his tentative grip on her arm and watched her wobble back to his couch and unceremoniously plop onto it, already making herself comfortable.

Soul followed suit, albeit a little more cautiously, perching at the end of the couch, as far away as he could get from the girl's long legs. It seemed she was only wearing her flannel pajama shorts. He grabbed the remote, and while he flicked through his recordings he cast a wary glance to the girl who was already curling in on herself and throwing one of his discarded hoodies over her bare legs like a blanket.

"So. I don't mean to pry, but since you broke into my apartment drunk and crying I feel like I deserve a couple answers."

Maka hiccupped in response and shifted to face him.

It seems she wasn't going to make this conversation easy for him. "Okay. Well you said your friend locks her door but doesn't lock her window." She nodded. "Do you often scale apartment buildings to see your friends?"

"Only when Jason's being a dick," she answered matter-of-factly. Her faced turned slightly darker. "And Tsubaki isn't answering her phone."

"Of course," he responded. Because that made total sense. What other reasons are there to crawl into your friend's window at 2 am? "And I take it Jason was being a dick again?"

She turned her nose up and scoffed. "Jason Giriko is always being a dick. That's why I broke with him."

Okay, that pieced things together a little better. It probably explained the crying too.

"—But then he decided to go on this great crusade to get back together with me today. He was camped outside my apartment with an acoustic guitar and cheap wine. I took the wine, of course, but not him." And that explained why she was drunk. "His guitar playing got a lot worse after that, so I left out the back and went to find Tsubaki." She hiccupped again, causing Soul to roll his eyes and stand.

"Where're you going?"

"You're gonna need some water. I've never had a wine hangover, but I'm sure they're not pretty. Do you like Poptarts? I have those too."

"Hot fudge sundae?"

"What other kind is there?"

He glanced at her from the kitchen long enough to see her tiny smile. He liked that a lot better than watching her cry.

He turned back to the cabinet and searched for the Poptarts. "So I'm trying to understand your apartment-climbing hobby. Are you like a Spiderman fanatic, or a King Kong one?"

He heard her scoff. "You already used a King Kong joke." He shrugged and waited. "And I'm a rock climbing instructor. I work at the rec center downtown. Teaching rock climbing and fencing."

Shit. He already guessed before, but now he was positive this girl was definitely more hardcore than him in every way. He thanked his lucky stars she wasn't a real burglar. He'd be fucking dead.

"Do you ever go to the rec center? Maybe I've seen you there."

Literally never in his life had he ever been there. He wasn't even sure where it was. As a local couch potato who spent most of his free time in front of his TV playing Xbox with Star, his life seemed pretty underwhelming by comparison.

"Uh, no. I spend most of my time here. I'm a musician."

"Not with the acoustic guitar, I hope."

Soul barked out a laugh as he came back to the couch, two Poptarts wrapped in paper towel in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "No, not acoustic guitar. Piano, actually."

She nibbled on her Poptart, eyes already a little droopy. "Mm. Piano music is pretty. I approve."

He rolled his eyes again and smiled, picking up the remote once more and flipping through his recordings. He had finally found Pacific Rim when she spoke again.

"Hey, Soul?"

"Mm?"

She snuggled down into the cushions a little more, setting down the water cup after taking a sip. "Thanks for letting me stay here. I know I'm probably gonna freak out in the morning when I wake up in a stranger's place, but I mean it when I say that I'm not upset for finding the wrong apartment. You're a pretty good Tsubaki-substitute."

Soul rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, well let's see how you feel about it in the morning after we get you some coffee."

She smushed her face firmly into their only throw pillow and closed her eyes, breathing softly through her nose. "I like coffee dates."

She fell asleep moments after, leaving Soul to wonder if she meant to say "dates" and if he was still allowed to Pacific Rim despite the fact that she was unconscious. He supposed he wasn't going to be sure about the former until the morning, and the latter didn't seem like a problem as long as he didn't wake her. After retrieving another pillow, two blankets (one for her and one for him), and a bottle of ibuprofen, Soul settled down on the floor in front of the couch, content to watch his movie and sleep in the living room.

He was about to press play when he felt the cold draft from the window, and with a glance at Maka, decided to stand and lock it this time. One home intruder was enough for the night, thank you very much.


End file.
